50 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
25 Years
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Nemuri on Jun 19, 2020 21:38:53 GMT -4
so trade that typical for something colorful
and if it's crazy, then live a little crazy
There was a weird sort of calm in the Black Sand Inn and Cafe today. Not a soul was wandering on the streets and the customers inside were talking among themselves quietly. But that was usually the state of Kabukicho in the middle of the day. When the sun was up, people didn't generally wander around this part of town. It was only at night when the lamps were lit and the bars (and brothels) were open that the streets would flood and this place would wind up full of the less-than-chill sorts that end up crashing here after a night of drinking. Nemuri didn't mind the calm for the most part. She was in a good mood, which helped to combat the lull in things to do. It also gave her a chance to look over some paperwork for the shop that she had definitely not been putting off for a while.
Paperwork that she absolutely had not forgotten to take care of, because that'd be SO irresponsible. Not something a good business owner such as herself would do. Not even a good business owner on ten hours of sleep this week.
On a Wednesday.
Ugh.
Alas, she had to look over these things at least once before sticking them in the filing cabinet and forgetting about them for even longer, and thus she did. One was a simple invoice she had to pay--it w as for repairing and repainting a busted window some time back. That was easily taken care of. The other one was a little less fun; it was a letter of resignation. Admittedly, the person in question had left a while ago. She couldn't blame him. His family was moving away and he wanted to stay by them, even though he could have chosen to live in Tokyo by himself. Thus, Riku had left the Black Sand. He promised to return at least a couple of times in the coming year, and they'd stay in touch with their group chat rooms, but she was still bummed about it. That had been a week ago that he'd given her the letter, and as of yesterday, he was gone. She was filling in for him today.
That same day, she'd put out the "Help Wanted" sign in the window. This being Kabukicho, though, nobody had come in yet. She wasn't that surprised. It took a couple of weeks for people of both willing mind and sober body to take note of something like that. She could always post up an ad online, but there was a greater chance of somebody who knew and liked the shop already to come in for the job if she did it this way first. If all else failed, she'd use the 'net.
Just so long as it wasn't some clueless Quirkless who walked in, she was sure it'd be fine. That was the nightmare scenario. Second to that was some morally white angel who'd rabbit away to the police the first time a known villain walked through the doors. But those sort of people didn't come to Kabukicho to start with--not even to its outskirts, where their little inn was located. The only people who came near here were morally gray at best.
So she'd just have to wait and see who took the hook, and reel them in.
"Kuro-chan!" A bright, cheery voice bubbled from over her head, and Nemuri looked up from the papers on the bar to see a pair of bright pink eyes looking at her own. Misuzu Masumi, the morning manager, was the antithesis of Nemuri and her constant state of exhaustion. With bright bubblegum eyes and even brighter (and very unnatural) blonde ringlets she was a little bundle of sunshine and too many rainbow colored mocha-lattes. She grinned as she looked down over what Nemuri was pondering over, and her glossy grin turned into a small pout. "Hey, you said you had paid this already. You goof! We're going to look bad if we don't handle invoices right away!"
"It was on my mind, honest," Nemuri tried a disarming smile, "I just spaced out. I'm paying it right now. Promise."
"This is why I said to let me do the finance stuff. Seriously, sleepy-head!" Before another protest could come out of Nemuri's mouth, Misuzu had snatched the paper up with her perfectly manicured nails. "I'll take care of this! You keep making coffee. And make more for yourself! You look like you're dozing off at the bar!"
"I always look like I'm dozing off..."
Her weak attempt at dissuading Misuzu went ignored, and the blonde opened the latched gate to go behind the bar, and pushed her boss aside to start filling in the invoice herself. Some of the customers were chuckling about the little exchange. They were regulars enough to have seen it before. Still didn't stop the slight sting to Nemuri's pride as the owner. Oh well. It meant she'd be able to greet customers, as well as any hopeful hirelings that could walk in herself.
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271 Posts
1 EP
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Total
"Slapdash"
Student-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Kenji Murano on Jun 20, 2020 13:25:12 GMT -4
... and one nerd in a suit IT HAD TAKEN SOME EXPERT-LEVEL convincing to convince Mosa to let Kenji apply for part-time job. Though the teen was small, and immature, and boisterous, he was fifteen—and that meant he could get a job. Mosa was reluctant to agree—he had plenty of money to support Kasumi and Kenji—Kenji needed to focus on his studies.
The redhead was unyielding in his defense, though—he wanted money of his own—to help around the house—he could keep his grades up, just please, give him this!
Finally, after numerous dinner-table conversations, Mosa yielded. If Kenji could juggle his school-work and a part-time job, Mosa would let him apply. If his grades slipped, however, the deal was off.
The redhead agreed.
Months passed, the conversation faded from Kenji’s mind—after all, it was as Mosa had said—it wasn’t like there was a “want” for money in Mosa’s house. It wasn’t until just recently, when Kenji and some junior-high friends went to a karaoke bar in Kabukicho, and he saw the “Help Wanted” sign in the window of a café. For all the chaos of the Kabukicho, for all the criminals and lecherous men and scantily-clad women, this place seemed… quiet? Sure, there were so many other restaurants, but a café and inn? Seemed like something you’d find in a quaint, coastal town.
The redhead stood long at the front window, staring at the sign, turning the idea over in his brain. Maybe he’d have better odds getting a job at a place in Kabukicho, where his own penchant for mischief paled in comparison to the actual crimes that so many of its denizens committed…
Thus, the next day—today, as matter of fact—Kenji returned. Mosa had helped the teen put-together a general application for employment, take a picture, and dress appropriately.
It felt like mad overkill for a fucking café job, especially a café in Kabukicho, but Mosa was insistent that Kenji look his best and make a great first impression. (And Kenji had… conveniently left-out the tidbit about where the café/inn was located.)
So, Kenji showed-up to the Black Sands Inn and Café in a slacks, a dress-shirt, and a tie. His hair was combed, he clasped a (borrowed) leather portfolio in his hand, and… well, he felt like a huge nerd.
The teen stepped through the front door, hazel eyes swiveling hesitantly over every surface of the establishment. God, this was weird. He’d be so much more comfortable if he wasn’t in this goddamn suit…
Two women stood at the counter, and seemed to be the polar opposites of one another—one was red-haireld and deflated, the other blonde and luminous. They talked of finances, which… well, made them seem like not-customers.
“E…excuse me?” the redhead interjected, hesitantly at first, “Excuse me, please?”
The boy would smile once he had their attention, an uncharacteristically uncertain expression, before greeting them with a, “Th-thank you. Good morning.”
Mosa had been very insistent that Kenji remember his manners when addressing particular employers. “Please” and “thank you” and the likes. But why the fuck was he thanking them for looking at him?! Man-up, you dweeb! The tips of Kenji’s ears went pink.
“My name is Kenji Murano,” the teen said, bowing at the waist, “I am a high-school student looking for part-time work. And I wanted to inquire about your ‘Help Wanted’ sign. Please.”
The entirety of this introduction was said more to the floor, because Kenji didn’t raise from the bow until it was finished. When he stood upright, again, the blush had crept into his cheeks, too. His sharp, hazel eyes flicked from the blonde, to the redhead, to the portfolio in his hands.
God help him, if these girls were just counter-staff, and he had to introduce himself to the real boss all over again, when he was already flustered. They looked young enough that Kenji entertained the possibility.
| ft. nemuri ogasawara ]quirk: friction manip. d-rank mobility, range, strength; f-rank street style fighting, f-rank parkour ooc notes: |
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50 Posts
0 EP
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Total
25 Years
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Nemuri on Jun 20, 2020 13:53:33 GMT -4
so trade that typical for something colorful
and if it's crazy, then live a little crazy
As if the gods of job positions had been listening in on Nemuri's thought process, no sooner had she and Misuzu finished their exchange than a person approached the counter. Nemuri stood up a little straighter to look them over. It was a kid. Well, no, more accurately he looked like a teenager, but he was shorter than her by about three inches--the same height as Misuzu, actually. He was dressed quite professionally (for a teen) and was acting a bit funny. When her eyes landed on the leather-wrapped folder in his hands, an assumption popped up in her head.
"Hey there," she greeted him in a lax, friendly tone, hoping it would ease up the stiffness the kid was displaying. All it seemed to do though was launch him into a small spiel. Her suspicion had been right on the mark. Nemuri grinned a little stronger. Bless him, he was trying so hard. She had to mess with him. "Nice to meet you, Murano-san. I'm Ogasawara Nemuri. Just call me Nemuri." The long last name was awkward, and to somebody with a pulse on hero gear, it could be a cause for alarm. Hopefully this kid was unaware. Nemuri delivered a small elbow to Misuzu's shoulder to get her otherwise still undivided attention, which got a small squeak and pout upward in response. "This here's Masumi Misuzu. She's the manager. So she can take your resume, assuming that's what you've got there?"
Misuzu blinked twice before standing up from where she'd been slouching over the invoice. She started to say something, stopped, giggled, and nodded. "Alright! Here, Murano-kun, I'll bring it to the owner." Misuzu opened the latch on the gate again and held out her hand. When either the binder or a paper from inside it was handed to her, Misuzu would give it a quick once over. Then, as deftly as she had taken it, she handed it to Nemuri. "Here ya go!"
Nemuri's grin hadn't faded in the slightest as she accepted the resume gracefully. "Why thank you, Misuzuchi."
"You're very welcome!" Misuzu giggled again, pressing the tips of her fingers together as she turned back to Kenji. The two of them were the exact same height. Then again, it wasn't just her height that made it hard for people to know that Misuzu was twenty-seven. She didn't look like she'd aged a day since sixteen. Whether or not that was a blessing or curse depending on how Misuzu was feeling that day, and how many times she'd been carded in a month. "Sorry for that little tease, Murano-kun. Kuro-chan," she nodded her head toward Nemuri, "Likes to joke around."
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271 Posts
1 EP
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Total
"Slapdash"
Student-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Kenji Murano on Jun 22, 2020 2:16:08 GMT -4
... and one nerd in a suit KENJI CHEWED ON THE ADMITTEDLY cumbersome name, repeating it mentally. He lost Nemuri's last name around approximately the third syllable-- so was relieved when she asked to be called "Nemuri". He was unaware of the connotations of her name, particularly given the bundle of nerves he was right now.
"Nice to meet you, Nemuri-san."
The woman correctly assumed that Kenji's resume was within the leather portfolio, as well as an unblemished writing pad and a ballpoint pen.
"Yes ma'am," Kenji confirmed. He procured his resume, picture and all, from the folder. It detailed his name, age, school and commute time, as customary. Mosa had helped him craft his "Reason for Application" and "Self-Promotion Points", the latter of which was short. The former explained that he was a high-school student hoping to develop his budding service-skills through part-time work.
In the "Requests" section he explained that he was primarily interested in working evenings and weekends, as he was a fulltime student.
Then, at the very bottom, a disclosure about his Quirk.
"Thank you, Masumi-san," Kenji said hurriedly, striding towards the opened gate. He surrendered the paper with both hands and a bow, nearly dropping his portfolio in the process.
As he gathered the portfolio into his arms, he watched Misuzu skim the paper before, after hardly a glance, it was whisked over to Nemuri's hands. Wait! Wasn't she supposed to give it to the own- ooohhh.
The teen could feel his ears getting redder. What had Mosa told him to say? Uuuhhh. Kenji rubbed the back of his neck.
"What… kind of position are you hiring for, Nemuri-san?"
The teen gripped the edge of the leather portfolio, wringing his hands along the binding of it. That's right, Mosa said to ask questions! And also... talk about the things your good at!
"Although my work experience is limited, I have a strong work habits, as shown by my grades."
His grades were admittedly standard at best.
| ft. nemuri ogasawara quirk: friction manip. d-rank mobility, range, strength; f-rank street style fighting, f-rank parkour ooc notes: |
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50 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
25 Years
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Nemuri on Jun 22, 2020 8:30:52 GMT -4
so trade that typical for something colorful
and if it's crazy, then live a little crazy
Test one--like Nemuri had actually intended for it to be a test, rather than just her usual bullshit--passed, the kid could take a little joke at his expense. That was always a necessary trait to possess when in Nemuri's company. Misuzu giggled again and left the gate open, but took the invoice and started moving towards a door that lead from behind the bar to a hallway, down which was the proper office. "I'll leave you two to it then! This invoice won't pay itself!" Nemuri felt the stab of very intentional guilt in her back. Oof. Harsh. "Be nice, Kuro-chan."
"I'm being slandered in my own shop..." Nemuri muttered out of the corner of her mouth. Misuzu got one more little laugh in before vanishing down the hall. As Nemuri looked over the resume itself she started answering Kenji's question. "We're looking for one of two things--or both, if you think you can handle them. One's a waiter, so you'd need at least some people skills and a good memory for orders. Or, you know, just the former and you can write things down." Riku had cheated, given his Quirk let him mimic people perfectly. Hard to forget an order with that sort of trick. Her golden eyes came to rest on the bottom of the page and lingered there. "Your Quirk would be good for that since you'd be less likely to drop trays or plates if you can literally make them stick to you. We've got a license to use our Quirks here. Well, my Quirk. But it extends to the other employees as well, if anyone asks."
They absolutely didn't have a license, and it absolutely didn't extend to anyone, even if it had existed. Nemuri got away with use of her Quirk because it was subtle, just like Riku had his own, and Misuzu's couldn't even be used in the shop to begin with unless somebody brought in a service animal. Sohma--the chef--was a bit more obvious, but it wasn't like he went around with his fingers transformed for no reason.
This kid had a pretty interesting Quirk, and one that could be pretty useful if she was reading it correctly. The only issue would be if they were too obvious, and an inspector showed up. Then there might actually be a problem. Still, this was Kabukicho, and the inspectors were usually pretty...understanding. Which was to say: bribeable.
Or she could put in a call to her father, who would be more than happy to settle those sort of accusations himself.
But she wanted to avoid being that kind of person.
And he goes to U.A? Interesting. Very, very interesting. Will he recognize any of my regulars, I wonder...
"The second is a barista, so you'd be behind the bar making drinks. It's mostly coffee, sometimes tea, and rarely we get people who want soda or booze. You wouldn't be able to serve the last of those since you're a minor--I or Misuzu can do that for you, if need be--but the rest is pretty standard. I swear our espresso machine is only slightly more bitchy than your standard model." Nemuri placed the paper down on the bar and looked back at Kenji with the same relaxed grin she'd started the conversation with. He still looked pretty anxious. Well, it wasn't like he had a long history of jobs to build experience from, so she wouldn't fault him for that. She might tease him for it though.
The "might" being a complete and utter lie, of course.
"Which of those sounds more appealing to you?"
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75 Posts
0 EP
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Total
Male
"Basilisk"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Cyril Donadieu on Jun 23, 2020 1:19:58 GMT -4
Time had lost all meaning to him and at the moment all he could find himself doing was moving off of instinct. At that moment his cells were telling him that he needed coffee. He had remembered seeing a shop being fixed up not too far from the Clinic and decided that he would head there for his fix. Deciding against changing his clothes the good doctor strolled out with a rather curious limp until he reached the front doors of the café.
"Black Sand Inn and Café..."
He would mumbled to himself as he opened the door and let himself in. It had a kozy atmosphere with a few patrons snacking and drinking. Cyril himself did not recognize any of them as he was new to Kabukicho himself but what better way to network than to do it in person. Shaking out the limp(his leg had not woken up and was asleep up until now) he would stride towards the counter noticing a woman with crimson hair and glasses apparently talking to a younger child. A student? Family member? Their conversation seemed interesting although Cyril had only caught the last sentence of the woman behind the bar as he entered.
Approaching the bar and resting one hand against it(remembering to keep a pinky up in the air cause of his quirk) while patting the child on his hat covered head Cyril would probably abruptly interrupt the discussion the two were having.
"Ahh bonjour eh...Hello! I was hoping to be able to have a bit of your wonderful coffee here. The smells in here remind me of my mother and my grandmother's kitchen. They would always make Noisette and chat over local gossip. Would I be able to order than drink here? A Noisette, though I am unfamiliar with what it's English name would be."
A drink that had a shot of espresso with a drop or two of milk or cream and served in a cup, was a Noisette. The idea of being able to drink something he so fondly remembered from his childhood maybe Cyril daydream for a split second before wondering if he had overstepped earlier.
"Apologies, had I interrupted something between you two siblings here? I definitely do not mind waiting until you finish, the Clinic I run nearby is free to close up for the time being until I get back."
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271 Posts
1 EP
EXP
Total
"Slapdash"
Student-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Kenji Murano on Jun 24, 2020 1:07:17 GMT -4
... and one nerd in a suit THE BOY SHRUGGED HIS SHOULDERS, sliding his hands into his pockets so that the portfolio was sandwiched between his side and his arm. Kenji watched the exchange between Misuzu and Nemuri, before his eyes fixed on Nemuri. As she described the positions they were hiring for, the teen couldn’t help it as his heart threw itself excitedly against his ribs. They were looking for one of two things, or both, if Kenji could handle multitasking.
Was… was that all it took? Walking-in and saying you were interested and… bam? Surely there was some sort of… interview or something, right? The shock was clear on Kenji’s face as Nemuri rattled through the positions—a waiter and a barista. And they could use quirks here?!
“We can use our quirks here?!” the teen gasped, unable to stop the exclamation from bursting out of his mouth. He clapped his hands over his mouth, dropping the portfolio with a loud *SMACK!* onto the tiled floor. Behind his hands, he was grinning—he was always taking heat for using his quirk at school, even if it was just for stupid little pranks. So the fact that there were places in this world... places of business... that allowed such things honestly sounded like a dream come true.
“Excuse me,” the teen said, trying to regain some level of cool. Kenji lowered his hands and stooped-over to retrieve his portfolio from the floor. Before he could muster a reply, a customer ventured to the counter. Kenji watched them shrewdly, his head still whirling with excitement over even the prospect of a job.
They were a big, darker-skinned guy with a young face. Kenji might’ve mistaken them for a teenager if they weren’t so goddamn tall. The redhead gathered his portfolio into his arms and waited. Belatedly, the guy seemed to realize that he was interrupting them, and Kenji flapped a dismissive hand in front of his face.
“It’s alright,” he insisted, “And ah… we aren’t related.”
He could see where the mistake was made, with the similar hair-color’s and builds, but… seriously? To just assume to redhead’s were siblings upon an initial glance (particularly when one was so… cherry-red)?
Manners, Kenji, manners… the teen scratched his head, partially-ruffling the painstakingly-combed locks. He had attempted to tie his hair back, at Mosa’s behest, but his hair wasn’t quite long enough for that, yet. And like hell if Kenji would wear a headband or hair-clips.
“You’re a doctor?” the teen asked conversationally of the man that had taken his place at the counter. If the guy was going to be here, he might as well talk to him. And the teen was genuinely curious if a guy as tattooed and rough-around-the-edges could actually be a doctor. Perhaps it was an omen—maybe a kid as bratty as Kenji could actually land a job in a café. They were both unlikely employees.
| ft. nemuri ogasawara + cyril donadieu quirk: friction manip. d-rank mobility, range, strength; f-rank street style fighting, f-rank parkour ooc notes: |
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50 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
25 Years
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Nemuri on Jun 25, 2020 8:18:06 GMT -4
so trade that typical for something colorful
and if it's crazy, then live a little crazy
Aww, what a cute dork. Just the thought of being allowed to use his Quirk in the shop got such a response out of him. Nemuri couldn't fault him for that--with how society was, and how Quirks were viewed, the places one could use them were pretty scarce if one was a law-abiding citizen. This was not one of those places, but Nemuri was the owner and she couldn't give less of a shit about people using their Quirk in her shop so long as it didn't break any of it. Or kill anyone. That was also a line she preferred not be crossed anywhere in the building.
"Hahah, no problem. Being excited ain't a bad thing." Nemuri waved off his little apology. While they were speaking she heard the bell above the door ring and, recognizing that Misuzu had left the door unattended, fished out a single page paper menu from beneath the bar. The fellow who approached looked like a foreigner, and spoke like one as well. Nemuri wasn't one to judge as she put the menu in front of him on the wood. "Welcome to the Black Sand Cafe and Inn. One..." she paused, smile faltering a little at this customer. A what? Noisette? Wjat was that? What language was that? "...uh, can you explain that drink to me? I don't speak...that, I only speak Japanese."
These goddamn gaijin, throwing random words into conversation. Japanese, motherfucker, do you speak it? He also mistook Kenji for her brother. Nemuri's already weakening smile got a slight twitch at its corner. Seriously. What, just because we're both Japanese and have colored hair, we must be related, right? Just ignore that we look nothing alike beyond that. And get your hand off him, Dr. Stranger Danger. Never heard of personal space?
Of course he was a customer, so she wouldn't go that far. Instead she held the menu at a new angle, one that would suggest, gently, that the hand touching Kenji should take it from her, giving the lad a chance to move away when he was freed. "Just a somewhat confidential job interview being held in a public space--no biggie." Kenji's response to the foreigner's line about a clinic made her bite back a laugh. Oh, sweet summer child, any "clinic" in Kabukicho was definitely not the sort of place any real doctors would work at. He was a wee bit naive, wasn't he.
"Anyway. You didn't answer my question, Murano-san; don't think you've got the job just cause you're the first to walk in, no matter how cutely you're dressed," she teased, attention returned to Kenji, though she was still listening for a description of whatever Dr. French here was looking to order. "But depending on which you want I've got different things to ask you. Just off the cuff, I'm thinking waiter? Not that I don't think you couldn't tame the espresso machine but your Quirk suits the former more than it might with making fancy coffees."
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75 Posts
0 EP
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Total
Male
"Basilisk"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Cyril Donadieu on Jun 30, 2020 2:58:43 GMT -4
Cyril's face broke out into a large smile as the Inn/Cafe worker asked for a explaination towards what kind of drink he was asking for. The fact that she only spoke japanese should of been obvious but Cyril thought he could try something exotic and test the reaction of the small group. You never really know who's who in these parts. A nod followed by a thumbs up would act as an answer to the younger boy's question as to whether or not this new dark skinned foriegner was a doctor.
"Yup! I own a clinic not too far from here actually. Come by sometime wouldja? It is quite wholesome if I do say so myself, almost homely. Apologies, a Noisette is um...a drink that has a shot of espresso with a drop or two of milk or cream and served in a cup....Yes! just so."
He would struggle to explain as he searched for the right words to translate from French to Japanese. Languages were such a weird thing, spoken and written in strict and specific forms but still flexible enough that slang terms and different dialects could be created. The Japanese spoken here could easily be different from the Japanese spoken in another part of town due to accents and dialect but still would fall under the 'Japanese' language umbrella. Being offered the menu, Cyril would of reached for it making sure to keep his pinky finger held out and away to prevent all five fingers from gripping the laminated piece of paper. Glancing through it and trying to stay out of the conversation that was described earlier as an interview, Cyril would of been looking at the sandwiches section though his attention would of been drawn out from hearing 'quirk.'
He would of mentally tried to fight it. The urge to jump in and participate. Who's quirk were they talking about? Was it a quirk they knew about or a quirk they saw before? Who held the quirk? What did the quirk do? What did the quirk look like? What did the owner of the quirk look like? What was their personality like? Was it a firey quirk paired with a hot-headed male? Or was it a stubborn older woman who could create constructs made out of earth? Ohh the possibilites were endless as Cyril would tap his foot against the floor trying to keep his questions within his own mind. These two were swore they were not related were so openly talking about quirks and he was not involved?! The gall!
Perhaps he could just re-enter the conversation? But it was a sort of interview yes? Would that be the most respectful thing to do? Probably not, but when it came to quirks, there was an extremely thin almost invisible line between what Cyril would and would not do to learn more. The tapping of his foot would rapidly increase for a few seconds then stop abruptly as he mentally lost the battle of trying to resist his urges.
"I couldn't help but overhear, someone mention a quirk? Is it you young one, Murano-san was it? Have you a quirk useful to this cafe? Or perhaps it was you Madame who holds the quirk? How does it relate to the cafe?"
Calm it down Cyril, reel it in a little...
He would mentally whisper to himself as he could probably see the discomfort growing on the faces of the two in his company.
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271 Posts
1 EP
EXP
Total
"Slapdash"
Student-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Kenji Murano on Jul 2, 2020 17:50:22 GMT -4
... and one nerd in a suit FUMBLING THE PORTFOLIO HAD DONE A LITTLE to quell the teen’s nerves. He’d been gripping onto it for dear life, up until this point, but now held it loosely by the bottom, with both of his hands. Also, the customer gave him the chance to actually breathe and think. Waiter…? Or barista?
His hazel eyes lowered to below the counter, clearly lost in thought. Of course, the fact that his powers would work so well with being a waiter immediately biased the teen. With how often he got in trouble for using his Quirk, actually making use of it would be… nice, honestly.
The mention of “Murano-san”, dragged the teen’s attention from the counter, and he looked towards Nemuri once again. The teen flushed slightly as she called him out—for having gone quiet, and for having assumed that he immediately got the job just by being there.
“My bad, my bad,” Kenji said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck, smiling hesitantly, “I like the sound of being a waiter more, too. More moving around. More people.”
Being a barista meant being cooped-up behind the counter. And, if one was being realistic, meant working mornings. The only mornings Kenji was available was on the weekends. At least waiters might actually work in the evenings or late afternoons.
The man seemed to cleave-on to the mention of quirks, eager to join the conversation that was unfolding between Nemuri and Kenji. Kenji ran a hand through his hair, glancing at his interviewer. It was a… kind-of personal question, wasn’t it? Like sure, at U.A. people talked about quirks all of the time, but out in public? It was like talking about an in-grown toenail or relationship troubles. Never with strangers, and sometimes not even with friends.
“Ah… I mean…” Kenji grasped for words, unusually inarticulate under such intense attention.
Time to resume his death-grip on the portfolio. Kenji wrung his hands. This was an interview, twice-over, it seemed. A job interview and a… quirk-interview?
“I have a quirk, yeah,” Kenji answered simply, a smile twitching at his mouth. He was clearly not super-comfortable talking about it, if his expression was anything to go by. Had he not been… bound by wanting a job, he might’ve just smarted-off and walked away rather than withstanding this awkward game of twenty-questions.
He glimpsed back at Nemuri, ascertaining whether or not she would share anything with the inquisitive customer, and how much.
“…and I think… that is, we think… it might prove useful to the café?”
At this point, Kenji was just reiterating what had already been said, reluctant to give any more information than absolutely necessary.
| ft. nemuri ogasawara + cyril donadieu quirk: friction manip. d-rank mobility, range, strength; f-rank street style fighting, f-rank parkour ooc notes: |
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50 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
25 Years
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Nemuri on Jul 3, 2020 21:30:28 GMT -4
so trade that typical for something colorful
and if it's crazy, then live a little crazy
Nemuri nodded to Cyril's description of the drink, and set about in making it. It sounded like your basic caffè--which was Italian for just a shot of espresso--but with some milk. Not very hard to do, or fancy enough to warrant a fancy name. Even if a single shot of espresso could create miracles it was still pretty plain. "Coming right up." She took out a small coffee cup, small enough for the shot it would hold with some space to spare, and began dialing and filling up the espresso machine. Press down the ground beans, click it into place, set the heat. She gave a small snicker at Cyril's cheerful conversation piece. "Isn't inviting somebody to visit a clinic kind of morbid? Not a lot of people would want to visit unless they've got a reason; that's like wishing bad luck on somebody."
Setting the two metal cups to catch the espresso as it poured Nemuri hit the switch and let the machine come to life. It groaned and growled as it heated and turned the finely ground beans inside it into ambrosia. When the stream of espresso started to fall from its central fountain she held the two metal cups up closer to catch it quickly.
"You want to dissect a Quirk," Nemuri's voice slid into Cyril's excited questions toward Kenji like a dagger, just in time for her to have opened the little fridge behind the bar, draw out the milk, and slam it shut a bit louder than might have been necessary. She was grinning again, forcing the friendliness that had been so relaxed before. "Maybe you should give your own first, if you've got one, instead of prying into a kid you don't know. Give before take, sensei." If nothing else, Nemuri would still call a doctor, even a self-proclaimed one, by the proper term.
If this guy's one of those quirkless doctors with an "interest" in Quirkers, I'm adding an emetic to his coffee.
Nemuri poured the espresso into the proper porcelain coffee cup, then a few drops of milk, as instructed. She placed it gently in front of Cyril on a little matching plate, as well as a small silver spoon. "There you are, one noisette."
Back to the actual important thing: hiring the kid. Nemuri kept his resume behind the bar and out of sight of the stranger as she went back to standing in front of Kenji, smiling a little more calmly. "Alright then. So first couple of questions for being a waiter. How much can you carry, weight-wise; how good are you with talking to strangers; how good are you with money and money-related math; and how are you with handling assholes? Take your time."
"Oh, and while you're here, do you want anything off the menu?" She pushed a matching paper to the one she'd given Cyril to Kenji. "If you pass the interview it'll be on the house, and if not I'll comp you for it anyway."
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75 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
Male
"Basilisk"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Cyril Donadieu on Jul 10, 2020 4:43:17 GMT -4
Whether it was the child's hesitant way of speaking once Cyril turned the line of questioning towards him, or the way the bar hostess sharply turned Cyril's own question back at him, made the doctor feel as though he had touched a nerve. Sure there may of been a sort of stigma towards asking about a person's quirk directly though they were all friends here right? Yes just met but friendly all the same. But despite that they did not feel comfortable enough explaining in detail what their quirks were. The very thing they were born with and potentially the very thing that shaped and shapes the type of person they are, and Cyril wanted to know about it all. Was that really so invasive?
"Ah...ahaha bien ouais, of course how rude of me..."
He would say clearing his throat as the bar hostess gave him his drink. Looking at the cup as it would probably be the best object to use for his specific type of quirk, Cyril would take out his wallet and take out some money. Upon further inspection the bar hostess would notice that the money given was way more than what the one cup of coffee was worth. Cyril aimed to pay both for the drink as well as the cup and a bit extra for any trouble the rest of his demonstration might cause.
"As you say, yes I shall start with me. Perhaps then you will feel more comfortable with sharing and maybe even showing?"
Taking up the small spoon and putting it into his drink and swirling it around, Cyril would drink from it as the bar hostess took the moment to finish asking the child the rest of the interview questions. Truly it seemed as though the hostess had already decided on hiring the boy but was still going through the formalities. Strange, why both wasting the time? Maybe to give the child the experience. Yes, Cyril knew better than anyone that putting a child through an "experience" offered the best type of reaction and learning they could ever dream of. Whether they survived it or not.
"My quirk is a bit difficult to explain so I shall show you both. Quick eyes now, don't look away..."
Cyril would say as he held up both the empty cup and spoon, one in each hand. Carefully he has learned from when his quirk developed not to grasp or hold anything with his entire hand. By his teenage years he could hold almost anything with his full strength without using all five fingers. That was because anything he gripped or held with all five fingers would activate his quirk and well...make matters a bit more difficult than they perhaps needed to be. First he would of started with the spoon, holding it with only his index and thumb, he would wrap the rest of his fingers around it and watch the faces of his audience as the spoon would instantly be covered in a stone-like substance. Touching the the spoon to the cup now, he would also grip the cup with all five fingers and watch as it too was covered by the same substance.
He would wave the two items in the air lightly before putting them down on the table in front of him, the same way he was given them. The items would still have the stone-like substance on them and would make an audible "clink" when hitting the plate and counter respectively. Smiling the entire time, Cyril knew the effects would wear off later but still thought he should pay for them up front hence the extra money given to the hostess prior to the demonstration.
"Any questions about it? I will try to answer as best I can. Though I believe it is most self explanatory."
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271 Posts
1 EP
EXP
Total
"Slapdash"
Student-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Kenji Murano on Jul 14, 2020 20:36:19 GMT -4
...and one nerd in a suit THANKFULLY, NEMURI WAS MUCH MORE ADEPT at steering the conversation than Kenji was. The redhead watched, intrigued, as his potential-employer insisted that the doctor was merely interested in “dissecting” the boy’s quirk. That sent an immediate chill up the teen’s spine, his polite smile faltering into something more strained. It was exactly the type of thing that Kenji’s bio-dad would dabble in.
He focused his hazel-eyed gaze on the woman before him, accepting the menu graciously before setting it flat upon the counter. If he didn’t answer her question, first, he’d forget most of it, easily. (Of course, with how his brain was humming right now, he might forget most of his answer anyways. Free food was hard to argue with, though, especially if you were a starving teenaged boy.
“I, uh… let’s see…” Kenji mused, setting his portfolio onto the bar, as well, so that he could clasp his hands behind his back, “I can support my own body weight… and speak well with people when it isn’t an interview,” his nervous smile broke into something that almost hazarded into “laugh” territory, but thought twice and doubled-back, “…even if they’re, uh… assholes.”
That was kind-of a lie. Kenji had a habit of getting into fights with assholes, and very rarely winning said fights. And that probably wasn’t the degree of “handling” that the woman at the desk was looking for.
Kenji completely forgot the question about money and money-related math, too preoccupied with proving that he was a decent person. He pulled the menu closer, peering down at it. Maybe something to drink? Even though Kenji knew, rationally, caffeine would be bad when he was already so high-strung, part of him was tempted to go for a more “mature” drink. Coffee or something. Couldn’t stand the shit, but if someone was offering…
“May I please get a latte?” Kenji requested. Having answered most of the question and placed an order, he redirected his attention to the customer.
The cup and spoon contorted in his grasp, scabbing-over with stone until it didn’t look like the same cup, at all. The redhead inclined his head. As he listened, he turned his body, bracing himself on the counter.
Even if the guy gave the kid weird vibes, Kenji was still—at his core—a show-off. Kenji placed the flat of his hand on the counter before the man could set the cup and spoon back down. A pink disc spread on the tabletop, as if hit by a spotlight from above. But, if one looked towards the ceiling, there was no spotlight to speak of.
The gesture was so fluid, it was possible that one might not even notice Kenji placing the disc.
At the point of contact between the cup and the table, Cyril would find (if he tried to lift it) that it felt super-glued to the tabletop itself. Even if he threw his weight into it, the cup would hold tight.
Kenji stepped away from the counter again, coyly tucking his hands behind his back. It wouldn’t behoove him to “release” the sticky disc. Pranks in the company of a prospective employer probably wouldn’t go over well.
Belatedly, the teen remembered the question he forgot, and insisted, "Oh! I'm not a math whiz, but I can... add and subtract alright."
| ft. nemuri + cyril quirk: friction manip. d-rank mobility, range, strength; f-rank street style fighting, f-rank parkour ooc notes |
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50 Posts
0 EP
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Total
25 Years
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Nemuri on Jul 19, 2020 21:26:44 GMT -4
so trade that typical for something colorful
and if it's crazy, then live a little crazy
"So being put on the spot makes you nervous? Don't worry, with how most people treat servers you'll be more a background character than anything else." As Nemuri received Kenji's order she went about to take care of that, picking up a white mug from a hook beneath the bar. "Coming right up. Hot, or iced? Any flavored syrup in that? We've got caramel, chocolate, strawberry...and matcha but I can't vouch for that one, it was ordered as a gag. Tea-flavored coffee sounds like a war crime." She glanced up to make the drink to Kenji's description, right on time for the doctor to hold out his pay. Money exchanged hands and Nemuri began to count it out, only to notice the amount wasn't what the drink alone would be. Maybe he meant it to be a tip?
But tipping wasn't really a custom in Japan, and this was way too much for a single drink.
"I thi--" Nemuri started, then stopped, eyes landing on whatever Cyril was doing to her cup and spoon. Ohh, that was why he included extra money. Well. Eccentric or not, at least he had some amount of foresight. Nemuri stayed quiet as she watched the fine glass of the mug and metal spoon turned into stone. Huuuh. That wasn't the kind of thing she had expected a doctor to be able to do. But not everybody needed to pick their life's career based on what their Quirk could do, did they. Nemuri whistled through slightly dry lips. "Neat. Alright, my concern that you were some weirdo quirkless doctor poking into other people's business has been revoked. Sorry 'bout that."
He was still a weirdo foreigner who butt into their conversation when it wasn't anything to do with him, and still didn't take the hint to go, but he earned a few points from that. Anyone willing to demonstrate their Quirk in public, legality be damned, was pretty cool in her books. She had to wonder though if a doctor should really be doing that.
Was he even a legal doctor?
It's Kabukicho. I would be shocked if anybody here ran a legitimate business. And I actually run one. Mostly.
Nemuri went back to prepping Kenji's drink. "Does it stay stone, or will it go away? It'd be kind of neat to have a rock espresso cup back here, to be honest. I can think of a few jokes I could play with it." She grinned a little wider. "Next time somebody asks me for anything on the rocks, I could just take that out and use it as their glass. Ta-dah."
"Congrats on your basic grasp of arithmetic. That'll do fine. Have you ever handled money before, or ran a credit card through a machine? It's pretty easy, and we have tablets for the actual money stuff that makes it easier to do." She set Kenji's drink, at the requested temperature and flavor, in front of him. "There you go. Let me know if you like it--I don't pay my employees in coffee but a free cup now and then comes with the gig, especially during busy nights." Nemuri chuckled and leaned back against the bar, the toe of one of her work boots tapping the tiles beneath her feet. "Any airborne food allergies we should know about, in case somebody orders something with that in it?"
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75 Posts
0 EP
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Total
Male
"Basilisk"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Cyril Donadieu on Jul 24, 2020 19:40:09 GMT -4
As his quirk took effect, Cyril noticed the other two take a look at the results. None seemed too fascinated, but nobody really seemed to be as interested in quirks than him in his life. Cyril would of seemingly deflated physically as nobody even bothered to ask any questions about it. He would of tried to lift the cup off the table but realized that it was stuck. Tilting his head slightly as he added more effort into the pull and came to an understanding that it was solidly stuck. With his eyes lighting up he would of looked closer at the cup bringing his head to eye level with the cup. Was it an adhesive? Or some type of melting type quirk? He did not feel the counter get hot nor change in temperature so maybe it was some type of extremely accurate union of different types of matter?
Cyril would of wondered much about it for sometime before realizing that he did not even know who caused this effect in the first place. Was it the little one? Or the older bartender? Perhaps it was a combination of the quirks together? It was apparent that they were talking prior to Cyril entering so maybe they had talked about a sort of combination technique to show off to newcomers to the cafe? No no no Cyril was being paranoid again he was reaching for a conclusion that he had no basis for. It would probably be simpler to just ask.
"Who's quirk was this exactly?"
Cyril would say blurting it out. It was not like he could figure it out himself and the lack of knowing was running his mind. He could leave and come back after doing some tests on the scenario, because technically he could not take the entire counter back to his clinic.
"It looks like its an adhesive....or a melding quirk? It was, it well it happened so quickly I did not even notice. Was it done while you two were talking? Or it was while I was talking? Was it done while I was doing my own presentation or was it during you guys talk now. Was it something that has a delay effect or or or..."
Cyril could not stop it. It was like word vomit whenever it came to quirks and he would ignore all social cues to stopping. He could of taken a different approach but his mind couldn't handle that type of complex thought at the moment. The two had peeked his interest and now he would have to ask questions until his curiosity was sated. That or he was kicked out, and if patterns in the past would speak to his future, he would be kicked out and banned from this cafe quite quickly and permanently. |
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